The Marchesa smiled.
"You do things very well, dearest friend," she said, and moistened her
lips in the cold liquid.
"Donna Beatrice has had more to do with providing for your comfort than
I," answered the Count.
The Marchesa smiled lazily, sipped about a teaspoonful from the glass
and handed it to her maid.
"Drink, Teresina," she said. "It will refresh you."
The girl drank eagerly.
"You see," said the Marchesa, "I can think of the comfort of others as
well as of my own."
San Miniato smiled politely and Beatrice laughed. Her laughter hurt the
silent sailor perched behind her, as though a glass had been broken in
his face. How could she be so gay when his heart was beating so hard for
her? He drew his breath sharply and looked out to sea, as many a
heart-broken man has looked across that fair water since woman first
learned that men's hearts could break.
It was a wonderful afternoon. The sun was already low, rolling down to
his western bath behind Capo Miseno, northernmost of all his daily
plunges in the year; and as he sank, the colours he had painted on the
hills at dawn returned behind him, richer and deeper and rarer for the
heat he had given them all day.
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